


hot and heavy, holding steady

by ovilus



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, no pandemic we cope like fan fiction writers, party time, victor is gay and so am i, yuuri is good at pottery and also making men fall in love with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28213692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ovilus/pseuds/ovilus
Summary: victor isn't one for parties, but a whirlwind encounter with a dancing vixen leaves him absolutely dazzled.(victuuri college au)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	hot and heavy, holding steady

Parties were never Victor's scene. Sure, he could stand there and pretend to be having a good time, but they were always too loud, too crowded, too... sticky. Tonight, he found himself standing off to the side, a drink in his hand, doing his best to seem uninterested at best, and bored at worst. Chris had heard about this party from one of the frat boys he had been seeing, and begged him to show up. To the best of his knowledge, the theme of the party had been ice skating, yet, from Victor's perspective, all he could spot were basketball shorts and lingerie. Overall though, his evening so far had been fairly alright. He swirled the liquid in his cup lazily, putting it to his lips and gazing out over the sea of people. Upon his arrival, he had been ushered down a set of rickety stairs, corralled into doing a shot, and then promptly abandoned by the small group he had come in with. That had been a couple hours ago, and he still hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of his compatriots. 

Victor sighed, pushing off the wall. The basement was humid. And loud. He could feel the beginnings of a headache pushing against his temple, giving him the motivation to begin making his way towards the stairs. In the middle of the room, people had pushed around the furniture, creating a makeshift dance floor. There were some obvious couples, grinding with sly smiles and wandering hands. There were also some nervous dancers, not quite drunk enough to be enjoying themselves, but not sober enough to stop dancing either. And, finally, there was him. A man, shorter than Victor, dancing as if he had never wanted for anything in the world. Victor had been watching him from the sidelines, quietly observing as the man made his rounds through the dancers, seamlessly adapting to each partner's energy. He was lithe, graceful, and so terribly flexible. As Victor brushed past the main source of his amusement, he could have sworn the other turned his head ever so slightly to watch him go past. Quickly making his way past the rest of the gathered students, Victor slipped upstairs into the blessedly cooler main level of the party.

If the folks downstairs were drunk dancers, those gathered in the main living space had to be their stoner counterparts. From his position at the top of the stairs, Victor could see a handful of his friends (Yuri, Mila, her girlfriend Sara) seated on large cushions surrounding a communal bong. He threw them a quick wave, making sure they saw and recognized him, and headed out the door into the night air. He should have looked for more of the people he came with, but in his half-inebriated state, he couldn't find the energy to care too much. They all had their phones, and all of them knew to text the groupchat if anything happened. Victor took a deep breath, sitting down on one of the many camping chairs scattering the porch. Rifling through his pockets, he took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips precariously. The quiet of the night mixed with the artificial calm provided by his cigarette made it hard to believe that through two layers of house there was such a large gathering. He exhaled, letting his eyes flutter shut. From behind him, Victor heard the front door open and shut softly. 

Soft brown eyes met his as the dancer from downstairs made his way towards Victor, gracefully sitting in a beanbag chair across from him. He was even more beautiful in the moonlight, shadows cast gently across his face and delicate lips. Victor instinctively leaned forward, his mouth upturned in a quizzical smile. The brunette smiled back, taking a sip from a water bottle Victor hadn't noticed. The two sat in silence, the night still. 

"Hey-"

"You're a great dancer-"

The two laughed, breaking the heavy blanket of tenseness that had been steadily covering the porch. Victor pushed his hair out of his face, feeling the rising flush grow stronger as the man opposite quietly studied his movements. 

"You're a great dancer." Victor started again, sensing the other's hesitation. "I was watching you downstairs."

The brunette smiled, his eyes warming.

"Not... in a creepy way though. I just noticed you, is all. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I hadn't watched you for long at all..." Victor trailed off, taking a drag of his cigarette to calm his nerves. It seemed as though the unshakable had been shook. 

"Yuuri." The other offered, laughing, as if he had made a joke Victor didn't understand. 

"Yuuri." Victor echoed. 

If Yuuri had been beautiful to begin with, his laugh made him gorgeous. It was if his laugh had lifted Victor to another plane of existence, one where his only goal was to make an absolute fool out of himself, if only to hear that sound again.

"We're in the same ceramics class."

And then, Victor remembered. He remembered the shy smiles, the gentle teasing, the quiet but interesting potter in the back corner, constantly creating beautiful art but never uttering a word. He assessed the man in front of him, studying his hands, his posture. 

"Yuuri," he rolled the name around his tongue, stretching it out, dissecting each syllable. "My name is Victor."

Yuuri laughed, his head rolling back to reveal his slender neck. "I know. Everyone knows." 

Victor flinched. Ceramics filled the art requirement for his major, nothing more nothing less, much to the displeasure of Yakov, the studio professor. He was never artistically gifted, always leanings towards words over the physical. The first class had been a rocky start, ending with water and bits of clay stuck in both Victor and Yakov's hair. Now that he thought about it, it was a wonder anyone in that class didn't know his name. 

"So Yuuri," Victor steeled himself, banking on the alcohol in his bloodstream giving him the boost of confidence needed. "Would you like to dance with me?"

It was like a switch was flipped. The brunette lit up, practically dragging Victor back inside, down the stairs, past the group of people crowding the drinks table, and back into the sweaty mess of a dance floor. Victor didn't need anything else to drink, basking in the energy of excited Yuuri. They twirled, spun, flowing effortlessly with one another. All eyes were on them, and more specifically, on Yuuri. It was if he were the life of the party, ebbing and flowing with the energy created in that moment. Victor couldn't remember the last time he had felt so *alive*, and honestly couldn't imagine himself feeling this way ever again. He drew the other near, Yuuri's breath tickling his ear. And suddenly, it was over. 

There was a crash, a scream, and then silence. Victor peered over Yuuri's shoulder to see a small, Thai man laying on the floor next to a broken glass coffee table. Yuuri turned, immediately rushing to the man's side. He turned out to be Yuuri's housemate, Phichit. Victor recalled the various times he had dragged his own Yuri home after a night of debauchery, and sympathized. Someone turned on the light to the basement, to the displeasure of several grumbling party-goers to Victor's left, and he assumed that the night was over. He made his way to Yuuri's side, kneeling.

"He's going to be okay," Yuuri sighed, helping a wobbly, yet smiling, Phichit. "I need to get him to bed, though."

Victor nodded sympathetically. "Let me help you." He steadied Phichit's other side, helping guide the man through the crowd of sweaty college students, up the stairs, and out the front door. He waited with them while Yuuri called an Uber, gently pressing a half-opened bottle of water into Phichit's grateful hands. 

"It'll be here in ten," Yuuri sighed, settling onto the curb beside the two. 

Victor nodded, unsure. While the housemates chatted quietly, he checked his phone. No messages was a good sign, and he made a mental note to check in with everyone to make sure they had gotten home alright. 

"Thank you." Victor looked up, finding brown eyes inches from his own. "For staying." 

Victor shifted, "of course."

The space between them was electric, thick with energy and anticipation. He leaned forwards slightly, feeling Yuuri's breath hot on his lips. 

"How ever can I thank you?" Yuuri murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

In response, Victor closed the distance, sealing their lips in a firm, but brief kiss. He pulled back slightly, only to be followed by an eager Yuuri. The man pressed one, two, three quick kisses, and then wobbled to his feet.

"Uber..." he stuttered out, splaying out his hands as if to say 'what can you do?' 

Victor nodded quickly. Wordlessly, he helped Yuuri get Phichit into the passenger side seat, gently shutting the door behind the two. As the car pulled away, he couldn't help but touch his lips. They were chapped, but in that moment, pressed to Yuuri's, they had felt so soft. He shook his head, pushing down the flush threatening to spread across his cheeks. How silly.

**Author's Note:**

> wowow! i haven't written in a hot second, but i felt inspired tonight. i'm a bit sad about not being able to party during my first year of "real" college, so i'll live out my dreams through victuuri hehe. i'm definitely a bit rusty with this characters, so hopefully i was able to flesh them out a bit in this universe while still remaining true enough to the original work. :-)


End file.
